A Little bit of Lectio: Wholehearted Discipleship and Acting as the Finger of God

I did a Communion service yesterday morning. The readings were familiar ones, the first from Joel and the Gospel lection from Luke 11:15-21 and I had done homilies on them before, especially on Luke. Given the power outage, etc., though I had read the commentaries and spent time praying with the texts, I really had no ideas about what to say about these readings. The last time I spoke about Luke I pointed out that the room swept clean of demons is a metaphor for the human heart cleansed or purified, but also the heart hungry for commitment and yearning to give itself over entirely to something or someone who is worthy of this self gift. Commentators note that the purification of our hearts is not enough; we are made to love something/someone other than ourselves who will complete us, and if we don't give ourselves over exhaustively to God and those whom God loves, we will give our hearts over to some alien love which is unworthy of us and will leave us empty and incomplete. I reminded folks of this piece of things.

As I was preparing, I cast about for additional ideas and focused on the metaphor "the finger of God". I was struck by the paucity of uses of this image in both OT and NT. That made the image stand out for me in a way it has not done before. For instance, it is by the finger of God that plagues are sent against Israel and her enemies; it is by the finger of God that God writes the ten commandments on the stone tablets. It is by the finger of God that Jesus casts out demons in yesterday's Gospel lection and, in a passage which might want us to think of Jesus acting "by the finger of God". we have Jesus kneeling to write in the dust (a new law of justice done in mercy?) when the adulterous woman is brought before him. To act "by the finger of God" is to participate in or experience some dimension of God acting powerfully, " with mighty hand and outstretched arm! And yet, there is a gentleness and restraint associated with revelatory acts done "by the finger of God." It was this that was the second piece of yesterday's reflection.

The third piece of my thought yesterday came from something I read which affirmed the human soul as that aspect of our Selves which clearly defines us in terms of our relatedness to God. I have mentioned here and in my parish that Dom Robert Hale used to say "God sustains us like a singer sustains a note", and I have used that quote to indicate the dynamic, constant giving of our souls to us by God; our souls are the eternal breath of God breathed into us moment by moment. This ongoing giving of this profoundly integral and dynamic "part" or dimension of ourselves marks us not as merely related to God but as relationship with God.We do not merely have a relationship with God, we are relationship with God. That is our very nature. (By the way, as a bit of a tangent, this is part of the reason eremitical solitude is a communal reality.)

Finally, I combined these three pieces of thought and reflected that we are each called to give ourselves over wholeheartedly to this relationship, to commit to truly being this relationship and growing in the holiness which marks and measures authentic humanity. We are called to allow our hearts to be committed exhaustively, without division or resistance, to God and the things of God.  More we are called to be disciples of the living God through whom he works with power. Now, to be honest, I find it difficult to imagine God acting through me with "mighty hand and outstretched arm". I am very much moved by and relate more easily to the image of God's power being perfected in weakness instead! But, perhaps I can think of myself acting "by the finger of God"! Perhaps I can even see myself as the littlest finger of God through whom he acts with mercy and restraint to touch and heal others.

 Yesterday that is the message and call I suggested God was extending to each of us. Can we imagine ourselves as, perhaps, the littlest "finger of God" bringing God's powerful love to others with the gentleness and empathy of Jesus? Can we see ourselves acting thoughtfully and compassionately in a wholehearted way with and in him; can we imagine ourselves writing in the shifting sand of our own time and in the lives of those we touch, a message of Divine justice accomplished in mercy? I think this is part of what yesterday's Mass readings ask of us.